Yes, Sir
by winchestiel
Summary: Dean Winchester is handsome. Dean Winchester is intelligent. Dean Winchester is a butler. Destiel, Dean/Cas, AU. Oneshot.


Dean Winchester is handsome.

Dean Winchester is intelligent.

Dean Winchester is a butler.

Dean had a promising future ahead of him, once upon a time. He remembers. He wanted to go to school, to be somebody; a doctor. Save lives. But that all went down hill when his mother passed away. She had been caught in a house fire. She didn't even make it to the hospital. Dean's father had died years before that. A heart attack. Dean's brother, Sam, doesn't talk to him very often. Sam is successful. Sam is happy and married. Dean is a butler.

How did this happen, you ask? Dean remembers. He had been living with his mom for the time being, gone out the day _it_ happened. Maybe, if he had been there, he could have saved her. Maybe it's all his fault she's gone (but it's not - she left a candle burning too close to the curtains, took a nap she'd never wake up from). He came home to a burnt down apartment. He sobbed into his mother's lifeless body before he was hauled away by someone tall with puppy eyes, who sort of looked like his brother (turns out, it was, but Dean didn't realize, didn't care, really). He stayed with Sam for about a week, and then used up all of his savings to get himself a shitty apartment of his own.

For months, he hopped from job to job. He could never keep one long enough to settle down. He had to take medication for his anxiety frequently. Most of the time, he hid away with a bottle of whiskey. It soothed the pain. Or at least, he thought it did.

It happened on a rainy Tuesday. He was walking down the street, staring into shops he couldn't afford going into anymore. He was shivering. The wind was freezing, and the rain was pelting down on him. He didn't have an umbrella; he didn't even _own _one. He walked right into someone, and stumbled back a step. Whoever it was, he had muscle. Dean used to be pretty strong, but he hasn't gone to the gym since...

"Sorry." Dean said simply, avoiding the man's eyes.

"It's alright." The voice spoke. Dean looked up. He noticed, immediately, that his eyes were stunningly blue. "You're going to get sick, you know." The man commented.

"I, uh," Dean stuttered, "I don't get sick often. Tough immunse system, ya know?" Dean faked a small smile. The dark haired stranger furrowed his eyebrows and shifted his umbrella over his shoulder.

"Why don't you have an umbrella?" He asked. Dean leaned his weight from his left foot to his right. Who is this guy?

"I just... don't." Dean replied. The man frowned, looking Dean over. Dean wanted to walk away then. He hated being stared at like that. Dean had shaved in a while and his beard was growing in, and yeah, his clothes were wrinkled, but that doesn't give him the right to _stare_.

"I don't mean to be rude," _Here it comes_... "but... are you looking for a job?" Stop the bus. What did he say?

"E-Excuse me?" Dean blinked.

"A job." The guy repeated, giving him a small smile. "I've been looking for a butler for a while."

"Butler? I don't even..." Dean stopped as the man raised an eyebrow. "I mean, well..."

"There's not much to it. You just need to know how to cook and clean, really." The man smiled again, waiting. "I've interviewed so many people. _Snobs_, don't know how to have any fun." He sighed.

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "I guess I could give it a shot." Maybe taking a job offer from a man he met on the street wasn't the smartest idea. But what other options did he have? It was this or eviction.

"That's fantastic." He smiled again. "I'm Castiel."

"Castiel." Dean repeated. "That's a unique name. I'm Dean."

"Nice to meet you, Dean." They shook hands and Castiel frowned. "You're freezing."

"Uh, well..." Dean blushed slightly. How embarrassing. Castiel scanned Dean's face.

"Do you mind moving in, Dean?"

"Oh." Dean blinked. "Am I supposed to?"

"Usually."

"I guess so." _Anything's better than what I have now, anyway..._

"Great."

* * *

><p>That was how it started. How he became 'Dean the Butler'. Castiel's manson (that's right, manson) was beautiful, inside and out. It took Dean a while to get the hang of the layout. He got lost a few times going to the bathroom. After two weeks, he knew the house like the back of his hand, and kept it sparkly clean every day. He didn't mind cleaning. And especially not cooking (that's always been his secret passion). He had started calling Castiel 'Cas' after a while of staying there. Cas treated him like a friend, not an employee. For the first time in a long time, Dean was smiling. His real smile. Being around Cas made him strangely calm. Cas wasn't strict about how Dean cleaned his house, either. If Dean missed a spot, Cas wouldn't say anything.<p>

Being a butler doesn't sound like the best job in the world. Sometimes, yeah, it's really annoying. Dean gets frustrated with things - like cleaning the huge attic, that place was filthy - but it really isn't that bad. Dean has no right to complain. Cas opened his house to him. Put a roof over his head and money in his pocket. Dean was fine. Dean was finally beginning to be happy again.

And then it all came tumbling down.

Something changed. It was fine one day, and then the next, Cas was yelling. Telling him he was doing this wrong and that wrong, that's not clean enough, clean it again. Dean didn't understand the sudden change. But he figured it would pass, and Cas would go back to normal. It didn't.

Cas demanded Dean call him 'sir'. He gave Dean a harsh glare when he let 'Cas' slip once. Dean kept his mouth shut and dealed with it. Maybe that was the kind of person Cas was. Friendly at first, but then, when he gets to know you, a total douchebag. Still, Dean didn't complain. Couldn't. This was all he had.

Weeks pass and Cas - sir - is still acting like an asshole. Once or twice, he'd let a smile show, but it would wipe right off immeidately. Dean was growing more and more agitated as the days went on. He had the house cleaner the ever now, and Cas still bitched about it. And he bitched about his _cooking_, the bastard.

"Dean." Cas calls him from another room. His bedroom.

"Yes, sir?" Dean enters, clad in his tux with his arms folded behind his back. Cas is silent for a moment.

"I'm surprised with you, Dean." He says.

"Sir?"

"You've stuck around. Usually, the butlers leave." His voice drops. "Everyone leaves."

"Why would I leave?" Dean gave a small shrug. "It's a job, it's money."

"Right, of course." Cas nodded. A silence fell. Cas watched Dean like a hawk, taking in every move he made. It was making him uncomfortable.

"Sir, may I-"

"Stay." Cas said. It didn't sound like a demand though. Dean could feel his heart skip in his chest and he cleared his throat awkwardly, rocking on his toes. Cas still didn't tear his bright away. Dean kept his eyes moving around the room, glancing at Cas only briefly. He caught the hunger in his stare and could feel his cheeks heating up. "Dean?" Dean jumped slightly at his voice, huskier than usual.

"Yes, sir?"

"Do you promise to stay here with me?" Cas asked, slipping off his bed and standing. Dean felt his mouth go dry.

"Wh-What?"

"Stay with me." Cas murmured. "Please. I can't lose you, too."

"I-I..." Dean stuttered as Cas closed in on him. He could feel his breath on his lips and swallowed down his nerves, nodding quickly.

"You'll stay?"

"Yes." Cas moved in, claiming Dean's lips roughly. Dean kissed him back, tugging him closer. They kissed for a long moment. Dean felt like he couldn't breathe, but didn't dare pull away. Cas did, their lips sticking together through their labored breathing. Cas stepped away, slowly. Dean stared.

"Come to bed." Cas demanded, his heated stare making a shiver go down Dean's spine.

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir."


End file.
